


pomme sweet pomme

by a3hihi (henriddas_quill)



Series: cabbage [2]
Category: A3! (Anime), A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Get it?, Help, Other, POMME SWEET POMME, he's a vamp in this one folks, vampire! utsuki chikage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriddas_quill/pseuds/a3hihi
Summary: sequel to midnight snack,, reading that fic will clear things up!
Relationships: Utsuki Chikage/Reader
Series: cabbage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109456
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	pomme sweet pomme

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to midnight snack,, reading that fic will clear things up!

The sun's glare almost melts your shoes into the street as you walk home to the dorms. The heat almost glues your clothes to your skin, and you find yourself peeling your sleeves up to deal with that.

 _Only a few blocks more_ , you think, raising a hand to wipe the sweat beading up on your brow. 

_Is that a vending machine up ahead?  
That's a vending machine up ahead. _

You pick up the pace, reaching the machine, clicking your fingers on its cool metal buttons and scoring yourself a canned iced tea. It's ice cold, almost shocking your hand as you hold the can to your mouth, letting it take your mind off the heat for a while.

"Now, you'll get yourself sick drinking something freezing like that."

You think of your schedule for today. The adults were out working; the rest of the boys were doing errands. But you still had to go over Summer's new script, and check in with how the costumes were doing, and–  
"Director? Can you hear me?"

Hm?  
You pause from your drink; it's halfway done. You hear a laugh erupt from your left side.

This afternoon, Chikage stands before your vending machine.  
"I said," he mutters, stepping forward, hands in his pockets, "You'll get sick if you drink something this cold. In this heat, that is."   
"Ugh, come on," you say. "I'm almost done drinking. Besides, aren't you supposed to be a salaryman today?"

"Suit yourself. Also, it's a free day for me, so I can do what I want." He adjusts his jacket.   
_"Have a great day at work, Chikage_ ," he says, mocking your voice. Luckily for him, you restrain yourself from swatting his arm.

"Well, it's good to know you got my note." You turn around sharply and start walking home.  
“Ah, let me come with you.” You hear Chikage start to talk.  
“Ouch.” 

You hear Chikage chuckle and you turn around.  
He shrugs off his jacket and slips it over his head. He smiles at you.  
“Sun’s a bit too bright this afternoon, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Do you get hurt in the sun, Chikage?”   
You walk back and grip his arm, checking if he’s hurt.

“Somewhat.”  
He shrugs. “I’ll be fine. Let’s get going.”  
He loops his arm with yours and continues the walk home. 

Opening the door to the dorms, you walk to the kitchen to get yourselves some water. 

Chikage has a sheen of sweat on his skin. Leaving his jacket on the coat rack, he wears a button down shirt with its sleeves rolled up. For some reason this goes on really slowly, at least to you. As he slips off his tie, you try your hardest not to stare.

He takes a towel from the countertops and offers you one.  
“Towel?”  
“Oh, thank you.”

The kitchen is silent for a few more minutes. You sip your glass of water. You can’t think of something to talk about.  
“So, about the sticky notes.” Chikage says, unbuttoning the top of his shirt.  
“What about them?” you ask, moving to make the two of you a snack.   
“I’ve read the latest ones.” He smiles. “How do you find the time to make them?”

“I just take a couple minutes to write ‘em every morning.”  
Chikage hums his response. “I appreciate it.”  
You smile and take some apples from the fridge.

“I hope they save you from boredom at work,” you tease, drawing a knife from the shelves and cutting the apples.  
"He chuckles. “They do.”

A minute passes as you cut the fruit. Chikage steps beside you and snickers.  
“This is a little embarrassing, but they make me think of you.”   
You push the knife a little too hard, and it marks your finger with a tiny red slit.  
You let out a small “ow” and Chikage’s eyebrows raise.

Your cheeks warm and you avoid looking at him, continuing to cut the apples.  
“Well,” you say, swallowing, “I’m glad they help you that way, I guess.”

“Er. Director. Your finger’s bleeding.”  
“It is?” You focus on your finger. Some blood beads up from where you cut it.  
You move your hand to the sink to wash it. 

As you pat it dry on another towel, Chikage reaches for a band aid nearby. He gently takes your hand and peers at it, holding it closely to his face.  
“You know,” he murmurs, “a while back, people like me prepared food quite differently.”

"Obviously you’d have to eat _somehow._ Oh, at the vending machine! Why didn't you get a drink with me? I'm sorry, I should've asked you–"  
“Don’t worry about me. It’s fine.” Chikage smiles. “I wasn’t that hungry.”  
“Really? I’d assume you would climb out of a coffin or something. Now that I think about it, that could be used in our plays.”

He laughs. “I really don’t encourage that.”  
“Well, what would you do then? Hunt some poor person down?”

You can feel his breath on your hand.  
“Something like that.”

Your arm starts feeling warm. You give Chikage a nervous chuckle.  
“Sounds pretty scary.”

He slips a bandaid on your cut. “Mm hmm. Which is why you should watch yourself more, director.”  
“I can very well protect myself, Chikage.” 

"I know," he whispers.   
You’re pretty sure his lips brush your wrist, but they’re gone before you can check.  
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.” With that, he gives you a wink.

You take the fruit and walk to the couch, sitting down. Unfortunately for you, Chikage sits down too.   
“So, any plans for today?” He says from your right side, crossing his legs.  
You try focusing on the band-aid on your finger. Why can’t you come up with something coherent all of a sudden?

“Well, I just need to check in with the script for Summer Troupe--” you stifle a yawn.  
You bite into an apple slice. Chikage doesn’t say anything, but you feel like you need to explain.   
“Slept a bit late yesterday.”  
Chikage clicks his tongue. “No need to make more sticky notes, if that’s the case.”

You lean back against the couch. “I’ll be the judge of that. I can always catch up on sleep today.”  
You yawn once again, closing your eyes for a moment. You feel a weight beneath your head. You blink, adjusting your head and looking to the right. 

Chikage has his arm curled around your shoulders.  
“Uh. What are you doing?”  
“Weren’t any pillows around.” He smiles, and you think he looks ridiculous. “Is this alright?”  
“Yeah, but are you sure? I wouldn’t want your arm to tire out.”

You look at him, looking for a sign that it really was okay.   
He shrugs. “Go on, it’s fine.”  
He leans forward and takes an apple slice. He’s warm. 

You feel the couch cushions dip down as his head falls backward, matching you.   
Setting your plate of fruit aside, you go ahead and lay there for a while longer.   
Sitting here with him doesn’t feel too bad. It’s kind of soothing, really. 

Hearing him breathe lulls you to sleep. 


End file.
